


Ice Cream in the Dead of Winter

by grahamcrackercrumbs



Category: One Direction
Genre: M/M, pure fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-26
Updated: 2013-11-26
Packaged: 2018-01-02 16:58:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1059314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grahamcrackercrumbs/pseuds/grahamcrackercrumbs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry is a petulant 19 year old child who is very persuasive when it comes to ice cream.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ice Cream in the Dead of Winter

The credits of “Love Actually” are playing in the background when Harry wakes, the feel of soft cotton against his cheek and nose. He nuzzles into the sweater and breathes in the familiar scent of Nick’s fabric softener. He smiles, eyes still closed, when Nick begins to play with his hair, intertwining the curls with his fingers, then slowly moving down to trace spirals on his neck.  
  
“Nick,” Harry grumbles, too sleepy to put much effort into proper enunciation.  
  
“Mmm?” Nick replies, moving his hand up to lightly scratch behind Harry’s ear.  
  
Harry gives an approving hum and then looks up at him, groggy with eyes lidded; there are finite lines matching the pattern of Nick’s sweater along Harry’s cheek and his curls have gone lopsided in his sleep. Nick smiles.  
  
“I want ice cream,” Harry says.  
  
Nick shifts his body so they’re facing each other. “Styles, it’s 10°C outside, why in the world do you want ice cream?”  
  
Harry lets out a small whine when Nick moves his hands back into his own lap. “I don’t know. I just really want ice cream.” Harry looks up at nick through his eyelashes and widens his eyes. “I really want some, Nick.” He feigns innocence at the innuendo of his last phrase and manages to keep a quality pout on his countenance as he continues to gaze up at Nick.  
  
Nick turns away with an assumed look of apathy and shrugs. “Well, go to the market and get some then.”  
  
Harry’s mouth drops open for a moment in an offended shock. He quickly gains his composure, however, and the look is replaced by one of determination.  
  
“Niiiiick,” Harry says as he crawls back over on to Nick’s lap and begins to nudge his nose along Nick’s jaw and chin. “I want you to come with me.”  
  
Nick turns his face to hide his smile and sits decidedly with his hands at his sides.  
  
“Please,” Harry mumbles, placing a kiss to Nick’s collarbone.  
  
“No.” Nick tries to say it with some sort of authority, but his voice breaks a bit at the end, and Harry knows he’s got him.  
  
Harry smirks against Nick’s neck as he places another kiss and says, his voice achingly sweet, “Please, come with me to the market, Nick.”  
  
Nick shakes his head and grunts a negative response, unable to say anything coherent. He’s trying so very hard to say no- mostly just to test the possibility that he actually can refuse Harry Styles (so far there’s been no luck)- but Harry has his arms wrapped around his neck, and his voice is smooth, and it sounds almost as warm as his breath feels.  
Harry drags his mouth as he moves further up, kissing Nick just behind his ear. “Please.” Nick lets out a defeated sigh and throws his arms up in surrender. Third time’s a charm, Harry thinks.  
  
“Fine,” Nick says, exasperated. He gave it a good try at least, but he doubts that there was ever really any hope.  
  
“Yay!” Harry leans back to give Nick a proper kiss on the lips, and then jumps up, quickly scuttling to the door. Nick saunters over, following Harry’s lead as he puts on his jacket and boots, but with a purposeful lack of enthusiasm. He can’t help the smile that tugs up the corners of his mouth, however, when Harry grins excitedly at him, putting on his beanie and then grabbing Nick’s hand, locking their fingers together.  
  
  
They make the short walk into town huddled together, with Nick making half-hearted remarks at the ridiculous situation. “This is mad, Harry. I am a grown man. I should not have to be putting up with such diva requests from a teenage pop star.” He walks a couple more steps and then repeats again, “A grown man,” more to remind himself, than to chastise Harry.  
  
They finally make it to the market, and Harry shivers at the warm air that passes over him as they walk through the door. Nick rolls his eyes, but wraps his arm around Harry a little tighter. They find the bin that holds all the individually wrapped frozen treats, and Harry begins to do a little dance, shaking his hips, and humming a tune under his breath as he searches for his favorite flavor.  
  
“Got it!” Harry exclaims, holding the confection in the air, triumphant. Nick sees that it’s one of those ice cream sandwiches, with cookies at the ends. “What do you want Nick?”  
Harry gives him a cheeky smile, but Nick replies with, “Nothing! It’s bloody cold Harry! I’m not eating any ice cream.”  
  
“Oh come on! You walked all the way down here in the freezing cold and you’re not going to get anything?”  
  
Well he does have a point there. Nick did go through a lot of trouble just to get here. Left his heated flat and his warm couch... And he could always save it for later.  
  
“Alright then, get me a chocolate cone, and let’s get a move on.”  
  
Harry bounces a little at the positive response. He pays for the ice cream, and they both takes deep breaths before stepping out, readying themselves for the onslaught of the chill. The wind’s picked up outside though, so they’re still not prepared for the whip of cold air that hits them as soon as the automatic doors slide open.  
  
“Bloody hell, Harry!” shouts Nick, more in shock than anger.  
  
Harry begins laughing loudly and in earnest. He reaches out to take Nick’s hand, and then begins running towards the house. Running? Nick thinks it might be better described as accidental skipping, what with Harry stumbling every few feet. Nick doesn’t mind though and holds Harry’s hand tightly, ready to keep him steady or hold his weight if he falls.  
  
  
By the time they reach Nick’s house, both are panting from the effort. Nick leans against his door frame dramatically. “I’m an old man Styles, can’t expect me to keep up with a young lad such as yourself.”  
  
Without looking at Nick, Harry wipes his feet on the mat, opens the door, and replies, “As I recall you can keep up pretty well.”  
  
Pretty well?? Brat. He follows Harry inside and watches him set the ice cream on the counter. But such a cute one.  
  
Harry takes his sandwich out of the bag, and holding his treat out in front of him, gets down on one knee. He begins singing, “I’m all out of love! I’m so lost without you!” He brings the ice cream to his chest and cradles it lovingly.  
  
“Pathetic, that is.” Nick says, watching the spectacle from across the room and trying to hide his fond smile. Harry looks back over his shoulder at Nick and gives him a blinding smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners.  
  
“Here,” Harry says as he tosses Nick his ice cream cone.  
  
“Oh no, I’m not eating it now. I’m saving it for later.” Nick looks at Harry pointedly and adds, “When I’m not already freezing my bum off.”  
  
Harry gives him a disappointed look. “You’re not going to eat your ice cream with me?”  
  
Nick watches Harry’s brow furrow and his lips turn down at the corners. Dammit. He might as well, already put himself through enough trouble just to get the damn thing. And he hates seeing Harry look like that.  
  
“Okay, but I’m making us some tea to have with it.”  
  
Harry's face instantly changes and settles back into a warm grin. He sits facing the back of the couch, head resting on his hands, while he watches Nick make their tea. An overwhelming feeling begins to settle in Harry’s chest. It’s their tea. Being poured from the same pot that Nick is making. And it’s their ice cream, and their matching boots, and their shared sweaters. Harry wants everything in his life to be theirs, shared, together.  
  
Harry’s thoughts are interrupted when Nick walks over, two cups in hand. “Whatcha thinkin’ about pop star?”  
  
Harry takes both cups from Nick carefully and sets them down on the small table. He turns back, drapes his arms around Nick’s neck, and flops his entire body onto him, letting them both fall onto the couch. Harry pulls his head back, so he can look at Nick directly, their foreheads and noses touching. “I love you.”  
  
Nick feels his heart expand in his chest, so far that it almost hurts. He runs his hand over Harry’ cheek and when his eyelashes flutter closed, he grazes them with the pad of his thumb.  
“I love you, too.” Nick clears his throat. “Even if you do make obscene requests for a trip for ice cream in incredibly treacherous weather.”  
  
Harry giggles and nudges their noses together. He sighs and kisses Nick on his cheek. “You’re the sweetest.” Harry buries his head in the crook of Nick’s neck, and Nick wraps his arms around Harry’s waist and holds him tightly so there’s no space between them.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Also, thanks to dorkstagram for asking me to write my first piece of fic ever!
> 
> P.S. I'm having some formatting difficulties write now, so hopefully it isn't too difficult to read. I'll try to fix it.


End file.
